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2013.03.22 - Cannoli and Beer. And Milk.
The eleventh hour has come and gone on a cold New York City night, and Fern is just getting home from closing up at Anita Bella. Stopping to check her mailbox, she murmurs out loud to herself, "But it's the travel time that kills ya." It's an oddly conversational tone, despite her having come in alone. She keys the lock, opens her metal mailbox, sees nothing inside so shuts and locks it again. Turning abruptly, Fern aims herself toward the stairs. She's carrying a small box, likely something left over from the restaurant, and multi-colored tights can be seen between the bottom of her large coat and the tops of her black boots. Having been about to go up the stairs Gabriel stopped upon hearing a familiar voice. As Fern comes into view he smiles lightly at her and asks, "Do you normally talk to yourself like that?" Maybe he was checking his mailbox or doing something else quick because in a t-shirt and shorts he's definitely not dressed to be outside. Fern's eyes raise, and her face brightens in a smile at sight of Gabriel. "Doesn't everyone talk to themselves?" she counters as she stops a few feet from him. "Hey, I was gonna come up and knock on your door." The box is displayed, given a light shake, and kept well out of his reach. "Wanna share some leftover cannoli with me?" It takes her a second to realize he's not exactly dressed for the weather and she huffs a soft laugh, "Trying to get yourself sick or something? It's not exactly prime weather out there, despite it being Spring." Gabriel looks down at himself then grins back up at Fern,"Don't need to get all dressed up to check the mailboxes, now do we. And I would love sharing some cannolis. Your place or mine?" "If Mrs. Grovser sees you she might just sic Flipper on ya," Fern teases lightly. "Your ankles will be history." She pauses a second to consider before asking, "Do you need to lock your door? If you do, I'll meet you up there. If not, just come to my place." She gets them started on the walk up the stairs, in no real hurry but not dawdling. Gabriel jingles the keys in the pocket of his cargo pants, "Never leave home without them. Or without locking your door." He starts following Fern up the stairs, mocking growling at her, "Don't even suggest sicking that yapping little thing at me!" Fern lets her boots scuff lightly on the well worn stairs, "You know you love that dog. The way it's fur bristles whenever you're around, and how it bares it's teeth." Of course, the dog barely tolerates anyone except a few of the female tenants. It is -not- a big fan of testosterone. "Whatcha been up to?" she asks casually. "Anything fun and exciting? Or ghastly and boring even?" Gabriel rolls his eyes and theatrically looks around as if searching for the dog in question, "That little ball of fur and yap hates men, it surely does." Then he takes a moment to think about the question at hand before shrugging, "Well, I've been doing some odd jobs here and there and helping out the shelters in the area on my off time. Then there's that sinkhole that happened in Manhattan. I was there when it went down and I... helped keep the crowd calm while Superman and a few other heroes took care of the emergency." The hesitation is very slight before he talks about the help he gave in Manhattan but its there. And to cover it up he asks a question of his own, "What've you been up to? Haven't seen you around since we met." Red brows raise at mention of the sinkhole, "I heard about that. You were there? It must have been pretty cool to see Superman doing his thing. Who were the others there?" She sounds eager for the news, finally gaining some interest in the 'superpeople' now that she knows a few personally. "Me?" she responds automatically to his question in return. "I was out of town for about a week. Been back to work, picking up extra hours. Nothing very exciting." This comes with an easy smile. Gabriel considers this for a moment as he continues following Fern up the stairs. "Well, Superman was there, obviously, and some kind of werepanther guy. And two angels... Well, not real angels but men with wings. One of them was wearing an Armani suit, of all things. It was pretty exciting to be there for it. I've been in New York for three years now and that's the first time I've seen any of the superheroes in action like that." Almost to the fourth floor, Fern stops dead in her tracks, face going blank as she asks, "Did you say an angel in an Armani suit?" She looks like someone hit her hard enough to stun her. "What was he doing?" Gabriel jerks to a stop and has to grab the handrail to avoid falling backward as he stops himself from plowing straight into the girl in front of him. He looks a bit confused at Fern's strong reaction to the mention of a winged man but he answers her anyway, "Both of the winged guys were mostly flying in and out of the hole, getting people out. Until Superman showed up and put everyone else on crowd control, then they were just keeping people away from the sinkhole. Why is it so surprising?" Fern's smile slowly curves her lips, her eyes warming again. "I think I know the angel in the Armani suit." Immediately, her expression changes to a curious frown. "I didn't know there was another like him. He never said anything about that." Maybe there's more than one angel in an Armani suit out there? She doesn't know how these mutations work, maybe there could be more than one person with the same one. The pause is just a heartbeat, before she breathes a soft, "Hrm." Then she realizes she nearly toppled him, finally, "Oh! Sorry, Gabe!" She turns and takes the last few steps a bit faster, turning at the fourth floor to head for her door, free hand fishing in her pocket for her keys. Out of the six locks lining her door, she unlocks the second, fourth and fifth ones, pushing the door open. "C'mon in," she invites, stepping in first and flipping the light switch. The apartment is probably much like his own, with a fresh coat of paint and few decorations. There's a sofa/bed, a kitchen table with two chairs, and not a whole lot else. Gabriel walks in and looks around smiling slightly as he takes in the decorations, "Well, at least we know you're a better decorator than I am. And all I can tel you about the quote unquote angels is that they looked exactly the same. But the one in the Armani suit was the better flier of the two. Have you met one of them before?" Once he's closed the door behind him and locked at least one of the locks out pure habit he waits to be invited to sit down. "Sit anywhere," Fern offers absently, as if there is a room full of choices. The light frown has held on her face, and she walks to set the box down on the table. "I hope I've only met one of them before. He asked me out. And he didn't say anything about a twin." Beat. "Neither did his friend." She shrugs out of her coat, hanging it on the back of the nearest chair, revealing her work uniform beneath, complete with a nametag that says FREN. She sidesteps toward the tiny refrigerator, "Want something to drink? I've got milk, water and..." She stoops to look inside, her voice quieter as she talks into the box, "Two bottles of lite beer." Gabriel considers his options and finally decides, "With cannolis? Milk I think would go well with it, if you don't mind sharing." As he speaks he moves to take one of the seats at the small kitchen table. Once he's in place he takes advantage of Fern not looking at him to give her a frank once over then chuckles and says,"Well! What did you tell him? Not that I go for men but from a purely objective perspective they seemed handsome enough for any woman to jump at the chance of at least seeing if she's compatible with him." Fern pulls out the milk and a bottle of beer and nudges the fridge door shut with her foot. Tucking the milk carton to hold against her body with her arm, the beer bottle in that hand, she reaches to get a glass from the drainer on the countertop. "Well, it's kind of a weird thing," she says, crossing to the table. She puts the bottle down by where her coat hangs, the milk carton and glass nearer to Gabriel. "Help yourself." She pulls out the chair to sit, but bends immediately to unlace her boots. "He and his friend both asked me out. I haven't really had a -date-" airquotes "with either, but I've told them both I don't think I want to put their friendship in jeopardy by going out with them both." One boot is kicked off. "They say it won't." The other boot joins the first and Fern sits up, carelessly flipping her hair back out of her eyes. "He's handsome. They're handsome? But I'd rather know the person, not the shell. And he's rich." She says this like it's not the most awesome thing in the world. "And, if he's got a twin he didn't tell me about? I dunno." Gabriel nods,"Well, isn't that what dates are for? To get to know the person instead of the shell? And who's this friend of his?" Laughing as he pours his milk he adds, "You seem to be quite the popular gal among the superhero community. How're you pulling that one off?" Fern gets up, shrugging her shoulders lightly as she picks up the bottle and twists off the cap. It's tossed into the garbage and she takes a quick swig. "I suppose so. I just don't want to end up liking one more than the other and having to tell them that. But, when they get to know me they might not like me, so." She turns, heading for the bathroom, still talking. "His friend is Kurt Wagner. You'd know him if you saw him... blue, fuzzy, tail." Her voice raises, so she can be heard as she half closes the door behind her, then there's a pause. After a second, she continues. "You know, for six months not one single guy even looked at me twice. What's up with that?" It must be the quickest change in clothes history, because Fern is already coming back out of the bathroom, wearing checkered flannel pants, a black v-neck t-shirt, and a black hoodie that is about as big as her coat. Gabriel seems to find something amusing, be it the ultra-fast outfit change or the sudden attraction Fern has become to the superhuman community is hard to tell, "Hey, maybe you should get to meet Superman. Maybe he'll ask you out to and then you'll have some /serious/ choices to make." With a wink he reaches out to snag the box of cannolis and pulls one out, taking a bite out of it. Then the description of Kurt sinks in and he tilts his head to the side giving Fern a slightly surprised look, "You're quite a bit more open-minded than most if you're even considering going out with someone that's that obviously a mutant..." He seems impressed with that fact. Padding back to the table, Fern plops into her chair reaching for her beer. No, the box. The box. A cannoli is extracted, one of five that are left, and she rolls her eyes at Gabriel. "Please, like Superman would look twice at me." She giggles at the idea, "I don't even know what Kurt and Warren are thinking. I mean, Warren dates actresses and people actually know who -they- are." At least, going by what tabloids say, not that she's looked up Warren or anything. She takes a surprisingly huge bite of the cannoli, only realizing now that she never did get a break for dinner through the busy night. There's a little sigh of delight at the taste of Anita's specialty, and she chews slowly, making Gabriel wait for a response. You can't rush perfection. Finally she swallows, opens her eyes and grins at him. "It took a little getting used to. But... they're just guys. Pretty nice guys, at that. Kurt even s... uh... helped me out once when I needed it." It's surprising she didn't give herself whiplash with that sudden stop and shift in what she was about to say. The cannoli is bitten into again. Gabriel takes advantage of the pause to enjoy his own bite of cannoli, easily as big as hers. But in his case its just because he's a little bit of a glutton not because he's lacked food today. As he listens to her explanation he smirks a bit when she takes that sudden verbal U turn and decides not to let her get away with it, "Uhuh! That's not fair. Kurt even s... what? S, s, s... Kurt saved you? Only thing that make sense in that sentence when you combine it with helping you out..." Arching an eyebrow he leans a little closer to ask, "What kind of trouble have you been getting into? You seem like a fairly savvy girl, I'm kind of surprised you needed saving." Even as she chews, Fern wrinkles her nose at Gabriel. Gulp. "It was a circumstance way beyond my control. Trouble by way of someone else." She releases what's left of her cannoli, right onto the table without thought, and waves her hand. "Bad stuff, best that it's over." The beer is reached for, and Fern turns a shrewd eye onto her upstairs neighbor. "What about you? Tell me about your love life now." The tone isn't a question so much as a 'time to swap' note. Gabriel is a little distracted by the eating of the cannoli. Then by taking up his glass of milk and drinking half of it in one go to wash down the cannoli. Finally he looks at Fern with another raised eyebrow, followed by a laugh and an answer, "Love life? What love life? The closest I've come to a love life is a spat with Blondie over the merits of using a Three Card Monty game to distribute a little extra money to people that are poor enough to need it but not poor enough to have gotten past the pride keeping them from taking charity." With her eyes on Gabriel, Fern lifts the bottle and tips it back, taking another healthy swig. It's a strange combination, lite beer and cannoli, but not one that's new to her. A beer after work is almost a ritual. The bottle lands on the table with a light tap as she looks across curiously, "No love life? Get out. Who's this Blondie? And I thought Three Card Monty was to take money, not give it to anyone." Oh yeah, she's been warned about those fast-fingered tricksters in the subways. Gabriel taps his chin with a finger as he tries to remember Blondie's name and then raises said finger up high in an 'Aha!' gesture as he remembers, "Blondie's name is Kiden. Run into her once or twice around here so I guess she must live nearby but i haven't really asked her where." Taking a moment to drink down another swallow of milk he then switches gear to explain about the card game, "Normally it is, yes. But if you can make people think you're bad enough at running the game then they think they're taking advantage of you and they'll start playing. That gives me chance to set up a table in areas where people need the money and start 'losing' money to them. That way they don't feel like they're taking charity but still get the extra money they need to make ends meet." That sharpness comes back into her eyes, "Ah ha!" Fern points at Gabriel, sitting up straighter in her chair, "I knew there was more to you. What are you, another rich guy? How can you live here," she indicates around at the substandard quality housing they occupy, "And give away money to people? Tell me that." There's a tease in her voice that says she doesn't actually expect him to be some millionaire with a penchant for terrible living conditions, but there's genuine curiosity as well. Gabriel smiles as he points at the ceiling, the heater, the bathroom, the kitchen, and the sofa bed one after another as he mentions them, "Not a rich person, far from it. But I have a roof over my head, heat during the winter, running water, food and somewhere to cook it, and somewhere to sleep that's not made of concrete. I lived on the streets long enough to know that once you have those things there's better things to do with your money than get more /stuff/..." He shrugs in a self-deprecating manner as he continues to speak, "Not that I don't put a little bit of money aside from time to time but most of my spare change goes to people that need it more than me." The response draws Fern's smile out in full force again. "That's nice. I knew you were an ok guy." She takes another swig of the beer, holding the bottle to look at the pale amber liquid within. "Stuff comes and goes." She's obviously not much of a collector of stuff, although she does have some prized possessions. A chest of cds under the futon. A stuffed blue bunny sitting on the futon mattress. "It's kinda weird... in school we'd talk about how cool it would be if someone rich swept us off our feet. Now that a rich guy's asked me out, it's just kinda scary. I mean, we didn't really want for stuff at home, but Warren can buy and sell my family a dozen times over. What do people do with that much money?" she wonders. Then her eyes shift from the beer to Gabriel, one brow lifting, a soft smirk on her lips, "Maybe I should ask him that." Gabriel follows Fern's eyes around the room before focusing back on the cannolis. Four left... It wouldn't be that rude to take another one, so take another one he does. "I'm just paying back favor I received. And i want to be rich too, I just want to make sure I get there without stepping on people weaker and needier than me." Its kind of implied that stepping on people richer than him is OK though. But its definitely not said out loud. "You know, that is actually a great idea. His answer, if its true, would give you a really good idea of what kind of person he really is." Fern nods, "I will then." She's not exactly the most shy person when she's determined that she's going to get to know someone. "If I'm gonna consider dating him, I want to really know him. And find out about that twin of his," she adds. She picks up her last bite of cannoli and pops it into her mouth, offering no indication she objects to Gabe having another. But, what were they talking about? Oh yeah. "So, what about this Blondie then? You got a thing for her?" Again, that tease in her voice, good natured and familiar. Something about what Fern is saying makes Gabriel choke on some cannoli as he tries to laugh and swallow at the save time. Coughing he grabs for his glass of milk, takes a big gulp and swallows hard to force the half-chewed piece of cannoli down his throat. "*COUGHCOUGH* *gasp* Blondie? That self-righteous, holier-than-thou little twit!? Nope, no way , no how. We'd end up at each other's throats in less than a week." Fern snickers at the reaction, taking a tone that is very much 'annoying sister'. "Methinks the man doth protest too much." She smirks at him around another swig from the bottle. "Some of the best romance movies start out just this way. Look at that one Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan movie..." She snaps her fingers a few times, as if trying to produce the name out of thin air. "You've got mail!" she finally finds. "They hated each other. Bam, fell in love." This is said with a finality that indicates it's a common occurrence. Gabriel looks affronted at the idea that he would ever diminish himself to watch that most dreaded of movie genre, the chick flick! "Really!? Do I look like the kind of guy that would watch a chick flick like that? Especially such an old one? And besides, that whole 'I hate you so it means I really love you' thing only happens in movies... And I guess with little kids." He takes a definite chomp out of his cannoli that carries an almost verbal 'so there!' along with it. Fern flips her hand dismissively, "Hey, I'm just sayin'. You're gettin' really defensive for a guy who doesn't like her." She's trying to hide the continued smirk on her lips. "Whatever." She upends the beer, taking the dredges from the bottle, and sets it down with a finality, and sings, "Take one down, pass it around, one bottle of beer on the wall." Absently, without benefit of song, she adds, "Gotta stop at the store tomorrow." Gabriel shrugs, "Just telling the truth." then he changes the topic by going back to something he noticed a while ago. "So what's with the stuffed bunny? You seem quite a bit more mature than the type of girl that hold on to her childhood with a double fisted grip of death." Blue eyes hold on Gabriel a moment, but Fern lets him off the hook, looking to the bunny, and grinning. "Kurt gave me that. The blue guy." She looks at the plushie, considering it. "He's very thoughtful. He has this thing he was wearing, like a silver arm band, and when he turned it on it somehow made him look like Errol Flynn. It was super weird, I'm kinda used to him and all. But he said he'd wear it so people don't get nasty that I'm with him." Beat. "Of course, it's kinda weird, since Errol Flynn is, like, clearly dead and all. But it's the thought." Gabriel hmms thoughtfully at that story, "People can get very nasty with mutants. Even mutants that look outwardly normal. I can see why he would want something like that. And Errol Flynn's not that bad of a choice. I mean, how many people really remember the man at this point? Heck, I know who we're talking about and I can't picture him in my mind." He finishes off his cannoli and him milk then gets up and goes over to the kitchen sink and starts washing the glass, ignoring any protestations. Fern absently sticks her index finger partway into the bottle neck, rolling it around on the bottom edges. "I don't mind how he looks, though. As long as that's not why he'd do it. He is who he is. Same for a guy.... guys... with wings." She's really sticking on that 'twin' deal. She doesn't protest to the glass washing, instead suggesting, "Hey look, if you do dishes you can just move in here and room with me and we'll split the rent. I hate doing dishes." Gabriel laughs a bit as he moves on from his own glass to whatever else might be in the sink, "Tell you what. Any time you feed me, I'll do your dishes. But I think moving in together might be a bit cramped considering these apartments are barely big enough for one person." He continues to wash dishes quietly thinking for a while and when the silence is just about to become uncomfortable he adds, "I doubt he's doing it for you. He's doing it because of the prejudices of society in general." And there, the dishes are done. Shaking his hands dry he smiles over to Fern and starts to head for the door, "Thank you very much for sharing. But now I have to go check up on Jeremy. I haven't seen him in a few days." "Yeah, but think of the money we'd save." She's kidding, couldn't live in this small space with another person, much less a guy. She couldn't leave her delicates hanging in the bathroom to dry. She lets the silence fall as well, pondering her own thoughts about the topics they've touched on in their visit. There's a nod as Fern concedes, when Gabriel speaks up again, "Yeah, people are judgmental. It's so stupid." She gets up as he heads for the door, so she can lock up after him. "Jeremy? Little dude, really polite?" Gabriel nods, "That's the one. I've kind of taken him under my wing, so to say." With another wink he disappears out the door and starts heading up the stairs, presumably to change before going out. Once he's out of sight his voice drifts back down with a last, "Thanks again! Category:Log